


Slimer and a Stray Cat

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Catgirls, F/M, Gooboys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cat mutant seeks shelter in a house haunted by a green ghost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slimer and a Stray Cat

Rain drummed down a tantrum beat on the tin roof Roxy had paused under. A rusted open hole made itself a loud faucet over the other end of the narrow bench she'd curled up upon. Despite the near isolating darkness her two sets of eyes could still make out the word 'bus' on the adjacent sign, a term she only vaguely understood as having something to do with moving things. She needed to bus her own drenched hide someplace safe if she wanted to make it through the night. A gob of water from the rusty hole splashed far enough to hit her tail, which flinched away on reflex. The traveling rags and faded scarf she'd wrapped around herself did little to keep the cold from her bones, and an unsuppressed shiver intruded down the cat-girl's body.

Having stayed just long enough to kill any hesitating hope that the rain might let up, Roxy darted out to the street. Regret filled her the second the bucket per second water resumed its abuse from above, but she steeled herself against the urge to turn back and hungrily scoured the lined rows of up houses. Most were too damaged for shelter, with roofs torn open if not caved right in to embrace all the elements of nature's banquet. The few worth staying in, spread far an between, bore obvious territorial markings of paint, barricades, and strung up bones. Even at her best Roxy would be lucky to seize such a territory without succumbing to the resulting wounds, in her hungry, exhausted state she'd be no contest. With no choice but to go on she kept moving, ears flattened against her head and moving at a sprint.

By the time the moon began its descent to the horizon, Roxy found the effort to keep moving titanic. Her body numb, every step threatened to send her tumbling to the gutter. Though the downpour stabbed stabbed at her nerves it seemed a lifetime away, and to just lay down her fate in fortune's hands seemed such a simple choice to make. 

Four steps away from surrender, some automated part of her mind reared up in recognition. Just in the middle of the next block down stood an unmarked house in good condition. All but deprived of conscious thought Roxy hurled herself deliriously towards the haven. Even if it turned out to be just a figment of exhaustion she committed her last reserves of energy to getting herself to the house's front door. When the handle and windows proved locked he almost despaired, and hurled herself at the door in sobbing frenzy. On the third strike, when her shoulder felt more acid than flesh, the lock gave way, and gouged out a chunk of wood in the process. 

Roxy fell inside in a daze, stupefied from being shoved by the adrenaline to brink of her mortal limits. Too exhausted to stand, the remnants of her self preservation moved her behind the nearest large shape, putting it between her and the doorway in meager effort to avoid being seen. She succumbed to slumber at once, not even noticing the door creek shut of its own apparent accord.

 

It was night again when Roxy awoke, stirred by hunger and thirst. From the way her body felt, she guessed she'd been asleep for fourteen hours. Fourteen days felt closer to the amount fo sleep she craved, but she'd surely starve to death before half that. With a long, teeth baring yawn Roxy stood up, arcing her spine till it cracked and stretching her legs till they cramped. Her eyes closed one after the other. Wiping the sleep from them, she blinked several times until all four lids operated in unison. Their propensity against cooperating with one another was a quirk of Roxy's odd biology that caused her much annoyance, even if it wasn't all that hindering.

Her waking ritual done, Roxy examined her surroundings. Far from the flawless sanctuary her exhausted mind had seen it, the house showed signs of quite a bad fire. Heat had peeled away most of the wallpaper and left the bricks underneath visibly scorched. The large object she''d slept behind was the hollowed out remains of a couch. She figured if she could get the warped springs out it might make a suitable bed of sorts. The rest of the furniture stood in similar shape, though the rug in front of the fireplace seemed to have gotten away unscathed, or else had been put there more recently. The ceiling above her had lost a good number of wooden boards, and she could make out faint glimpses of the rooms upstairs. The roof seemed undamaged enough to keep the rain out, at least in the room she'd slept in, so it was still good enough for shelter. A wave of painful tension ran through the cat-girl's stomach, a reminder of her urgent hunger.

A bit of lurking led Roxy to the kitchen, as burnt out as the rest of the house, and the door to the oven rusted open. She pulled a face at the mold colony emigrating from the un-powered fridge, and turned her attention to the cupboards. Sacks of flour and cartons with labels worn away had long since been depleted by rats and bugs, but here and there between them sat still sealed tins that seemed in good condition. She pulled one out and turned it over in her hand. The label marked it as an item of canned bread. She stuck her tongue out at it in unbridled disgust and set the tin by the sink as an absolute last resort. Her next few acquisitions proved better, finding some sardines, a tin of baked beans, and some pickled eggs that all seemed fit for consumption. Her next meal secured, Roxy reached for a drawer to see if there were a can opener in usable condition, but a sound upstairs stopped her in her tracks.

Her ears pricked and her tail stiffened. The storm hadn't let up yet, and even if she fled with the food there was no telling when she might find shelter again. It might no be anything living either, lots of places still had one or two devices that hadn't ran out of power yet. Emboldened, Roxy returned to the lounge and hid the spoils of her search inside the hollowed couch, then crept her way up the nearby staircase.

At the top of the staircase she nearly slipped on a pool of strange, sticky liquid on the final step. Securing her hold on the bannister she bowed down and took a cautious sniff. It was almost scentless, yet in a strange, vague way reminded her of her mother's laboratory. She gulped nervously and kept moving. 

At roughly even intervals along the walls, the scorch marks outlined almost perfect rectangles of dew-ridden wallpaper. Roxy brushed her fingers along the edge of one such space, closed her four eyes, and tried to picture the fire in her head. There had been pictures here, she was suddenly sure. The fire ruined them, and so someone had taken them down. That seemed right. 

The noise rang louder now, and her sensitive ears recognized the sound of voices marred by hisses of feedback. Whatever had been recorded, if the playback device still worked then she'd have something to entertain herself with until the storm passed. The same disposition towards stir-craziness had led to her venturing out from the relative safety of her home, and the humor in that wasn't lost on her. She followed the sound, and found herself standing before a closed room.

Roxy paused in front of the door. More of that strange slime was smeared across it, almost like a warning. She reconsidered her decision not to leave. If this territory was staked, she'd be better leaving before its occupant finds her. On the other hand, she'd been helpless downstairs all day and still wasn't dead. Either such an occupant was long gone, prone to spending a lot of time away, or didn't care that she was here. No matter which, she decided it would be better to find out, rather than hope for the best in uncertainty. Roxy gathered her wits and opened the door.

It flung inwards with more force than the cat-girl had intended, and bounced off the wall with a racket that made her cringe. She thought she heard something wet hit the floor, but when she braved open her eyes she found herself alone in the room. It was just as burnt as all the others, but still obvious in its original purpose. A collapsed bed sat against one wall, and opposite sat a blackened chest. The tattered remains of old posters drooped miserably from bent nails. Yet the most important thing sat atop a warped desk in the middle of the room- a damaged, but still functioning computer, hooked up via a mess of adapters to quietly putting away motor and a pair of long-suffering speakers. The screen, cracked and with marred colors, displayed a scene from some movie Roxy didn't recognize. A man and his dog wandered through a desert wasteland, wearing strips of leather and scraps of iron. Roxy bounded to the desk in delight. Not only something to watch, but a computer of all things. She hadn't seen a working computer since leaving the lab.

Her hand stretched eagerly towards the yellowed keyboard, but snatched away at the last second. The door was shut. She hadn't shut it when she'd come inside but it was shut now, and she hadn't noticed it happen. She rubber her hand across her mouth in contemplation. She couldn't smell anything that might be a person, but maybe they used that slime to mask their scent. They seemed to be hiding from her. That could only mean they were afraid to try and chase her out. If they weren't viscous, maybe they could be friends. She thumped her fist against her palm, went to the door, and opened it.

The bucket hit her head with a dull thunk, and took Roxy so by surprise she fell flat on her ass in stunned silence. From down the hall came tittering, boyish laughter. She pulled the bucket off her head and blinked stupidly, her four eyes out of sequence. She stood, feeling unexpectedly light on her feet, and stepped out into the hall. She stretched her arms above her head andf closed her eyes. The cat-girl counted to three and opened just one of her four eyes. A bespectled green face peered at her from around a corner at the hall's end, curious at her lack of reaction. As soon as she sighted him, Roxy's face broke into a broad grin and she blurred into motion. The boy fled at once. Her heart pounded joyously. The chase was on.

She saw him vanish through the open door to the bathroom, and followed, but skidded to a halt when the tiled room proved empty. Confused, she turned around, and met with the rubber kiss of a plunger being stuck to her face. The boy laughed and fled while she yanked the thing off her face, and she gave chase again. She sighted him again at the top of the stairs, not seeming to have noticed her, and barreled towards him. At the last second he turned, biting his lip to hold back the laughter, and sank into the solid floor below. Roxy's heel skidded on the pool of slime left in his wake, and smacked face first into the wall. His laughter broke from somewhere downstairs, and while Roxy rubbed her slightly flatter nose he floated by at the bottom of the staircase. He whistled to gain her attention, tilted his head and placed a coy finger against the corner of his smile. Her four eyes, wide as pennies in the dark, picked out the tripwire strung from the wall to the bannister at the base of the staircase. Roxy grinned, stepped back, and took a running leap down the stairs. The boy's smile gave way to fear as the cat-girl flew over the staircase, and then shock as she twisted mid-air and instead of breaking her neck, used the wall as a springboard to launch herself straight for him.

Roxy tackled the boy to the ground, technically. As soon as she struck him his body burst into a thousand tiny green globules, drenching her front in slime momentum carried her to the floor. The globules rapidly flocked back together, and the end result was still the same. The boy lay beneath Roxy, seemingly pinned by her, though she had little doubt he could probably just sink through the floor or slide out from under her. None of that mattered though. Recognition of her victory passed between them. Giddy and openly panting, Roxy regarded her 'catch'. His face was youthful such that his age was impossible to guess, three of his front teeth stuck out visibly from under his top lip, and his 'glasses' seemed to be made of the same stuff as the rest of him. She could see right through him almost clearly, the floor below cast in an odd green by his body. The boy watched her, eager to see what she'd do next. To her, too, it seemed like there was one more thing, some stamp of accomplishment needed to mark her win. Spurred by her excitement, and on an only vaguely understood whim, she lowered her head and kissed his gooey lips. His eyes widened at once, and his whole body collapsed into a puddle beneath her. Roxy sat up, blushing bright scarlet but laughing heartily. 

oh my god! you are just fucking adorable.

She licked her lips, tasting the faint tang of his slime. 

it is so great to finally meet someone i can actually talk to. i'm roxy.

She held out her hand to puddle of slime. Like it was the surface of a pool he happened to be under, the boy's own hand stuck out and took it, his head emerging a second later.

i'm John. you know, I think you're the first person who didn't run away screaming just from a little prank, let alone, um...

His hand started to lose consistency in her grasp, so Roxy let go and stood up. John emerged after her, floating a few inches off the ground. She glanced over him, and noted that the further down his body the less defined he was, starting with a perfectly human looking head and ending in a thin, featureless 'tail' instead of legs. 

John flitted around her, openly marveling at the cat-girl from all angles. He poked her acute ears, prodded her wrapped toes, ran his hand along her tail and watched amazed as she squirmed. He peered closely at her damp rags, flinched back and gasped.

oh man, you're really soaked through. hang on, I'll light the fire before you catch a cold.

He shot away into the lounge, leaving her to follow at her own pace, and when she got there he was already fiddling with the fireplace. After several seconds of frantic sparking the scattered incendiary cubes lit up. 

hey, now we're cooking with petrol. i dunno about wood though, I guess you can use some of these chairs or something?

He shrugged, and held his arms towards the long unused furniture. The limb dissipated, and several disembodied green hands appeared in its stead. They made short work of the chair, lifting it up and systematically snapping it to pieces then feeding it to the fire. Their task done, and the fire now crackling happily on the old wood, the hands splashed together again, reforming the boy's arm. He waved to Roxy, who joined him in front of the fire. After being cold and wet for so long, the source of heat felt like pure ecstasy against her skin. She rubbed her arms and let a shiver of relief run through her, then turned to her companion.

sooooo, you a ghost or something?

yeah! I mean, I guess. i don't really remember anything but being like this, and the house being this way, but that's probably a ghost thing too, you know, like in Casper. how about you? are you an anime?

am i a what now?

you know, a neck o'meemee or however they say that. a human cat.

oh, yeah i'm totes rockin this feline booty.

She spun around and slapped her hip, then coughed and stood up.

yeah i don't actually know. there were some notes and stuff in the lab but i was more interested messing wi' the computers and playing around in the pumpkin patch.

Reminded of food, another hunger cramp rippled through Roxy's stomach, souring her expression. 

oshit, i forgot about the stuff.

stuff?

Reluctantly she stepped away from the fire and retrieved her tins from their hiding place. 

yo, it's fine for me to eat these or whatever, right? i didn't think anyone was around at first but i'd hate to just steal your food.

yeah, that's fine. i don't eat or anything anyway so it's not like I'm missing out. wait right here, I'll get a can opener.

The green boy passed through the wall with a splat of slimy residue. While she waited for him to return, Roxy took the opportunity to hang her still-damp clothes up to dry in front of the fire. She removed her faded scarf, hoping it wouldn't shrink too bad, hung it over the back of an unkindled chair, and set about unwrapping the near mummifying travvelers rags she'd wound around herself. By the time John returned, the rags streamed from the back of the chair, sun-bleached ribbons beside the fire.

find it?

yeah I-

The boy's explanation abruptly ended when Roxy pulled her threadbare shirt over her head. It sooned joined her other clothes over the back of the chair, and ROxy hooked her thumbs into the waist of her pants.

you're, ah, undressing.

John swallowed, thrusting the can opener forward like it was his only reason to even be in his own house.

duh, no point suffering soggy clothes if we got a fire. i'll be warm faster and they'll dry quicker. it's a win-win sit.

She yanked her pants down to her ankles, her tail passing through the hole cut down the back, and stepped out of them one foot after the other. Picking them up, she draped the pants over the chair's arm, put her hands on her lower back, and arced her spine. John drifted imperceptibly closer to the floor. A sound clanged out, and he flinched like an angel meeting God in a brothel. The can opener came to rest against the edge of the oval carpet, coated in a thin film of slime from its passing straight through his hand.

Roxy squatted down to pick it up, smiling at how his eyes zeroed in on the way her sprightly chest jiggled with every movement. She sat back down in front of the fire, and patted the carpet next to her.

don't be a stranger now, plenty of room for two of us.

Gingerly, John floated down to join her in front of a fire. He crossed his arms, uncrossed them, clasped his hands together, then seemed to give up finding something to do with his arms altogether and withdrew them into his amorphic body. Roxy merrily let him work through his discomfort, focusing on the task of food. So long as there was a fire, she reasoned, it'd be a shame not to have a hot meal for once. With the blade of the can opener she stabbed three holes in each of the tins' lids, then used the iron wood tongs hanging on the rack to place them in the fire and began counting down in her head.

so, what's with the four eyes?

He realized what he said, and his expression shifted to resemble someone struck in the hip by a golf ball. Roxy's laughter snorted out of her.

lol if i know, i got four little peepers and that's about it. i kinda remember one of the long ass notes in the lab mentioning a thing about 'benign mutations' or whatev so i guess it's that.

you're a mutant? like an X-Man? that's so cool.

Roxy snorted, and puffed out her chest.

oh for sure, real manly x-man. feel the power of my amazing mutant strength.

She shoved him with one open hand. At least, that had been the plan. Instead her hand sank into the goo-boy's torso down to the wrist.

huh. probs shoulda seen that happening.

With an experimental wiggle of her fingers, she felt around inside John's body, but at the hitching of his breath she paused.

that doesn't, like, hurt or anything, right?

His eyes were closed and his mouth hung slightly ajar. A bead of slime dripped from his brow to the floor.

no, it doesn't hurt, it just feels really, really weird.

Roxy considered this, and flexed her hand in a groping motion. The boy shivered.

a bad kinda weird?

She cocked her head.

or a good kinda weird?

good? probably? i don't know, it never feels like this when I pass through things or anything.

With an expression of focused curiosity Roxy shifted closer, so her naked body pressed right up against him, and pushed her hand in deeper.

maybes its like how you can't tickle yourself. that sorta thing.

She gave her hand a swish and watched the ripple move out through his body, her eyes wide to not miss a single detail.

I'm starting to feel,

He gasped, a tremor rippling through his body.

sorta tense?

hrrrmmmm, interesting.

She swiveled around so she faced him head on, her knees distorting his thighs as they passed, sending another ripple through his body. The high, muffled moan the boy made in response caused her to bite her lip, and unconsciously clench her thighs together. Tentatively, she raised her other arm and slowly pushed it into his torso too, until her palms brushed against one another. John opened his mouth to speak but only managed to mumble an incoherent string of vowels. 

for the record, you don't have any like, ghost organs or anything i gotta watch out for, right?

n-not that I know of, I mean, I pass right through walls easil-aahhh.

His voice fell short as she moved her hands around in opposing circles, outlining where lungs would normally be. She swallowed, and swept her tongue across her drying lips. Struck by a new idea, she opened her hands as far as she could then quickly clenched them into fists. She could feel the gelatinous substance being squeezed out between her fingers and over her thumb in a sensation both strange and appealing. His whole body was the most precisely perfect stress ball in gel form, but the way he gasped and shuddered lent the whole experience a profoundly erotic air for her. Her tail curled sideways around her thigh and stayed there.

what's, happening? oh god I feel like I'm melting. i can't-

The genuine fear in his voice caused her to snatch her arms out of him like he'd suddenly turned molten, but the sensation proved to be the final push more than he could resist. She got a split second glimpse of his face clenched in over stimulation, then his whole body collapsed against her. His suddenly amorphous body splashed over her like a burst water balloon, and the surprise of it made the cat-girl fall onto her back against the rug. The now featureless green slime flowed down her body. It clung to her nipples, already stiff and sensitive from the open air. It dripped down her sides. It pooled in her navel. It trickled between her splayed legs to flow down the crevices of her pussy, already inflamed from his reactions to her handling him. His slime felt cool and pleasant, and the way it continued flowing stimulated everywhere it touched. 

you, uh, okay there buddy?

She forced her hands to remain flat against the carpet. No matter how badly she wanted to rub the substance into her skin it wouldn't do if she'd knocked the boy into some sort of ghost-coma.

A stretch of slime puddled beside her trembled, bubbled, and formed on its surface a crude approximation of a mouth.

i'm, oh wow, that was incredible. how did-

The puddle collapsed. A few seconds later her tried again, a more human looking mouth emerging in the slime.

man, I feel weak in the, well, everything.

The goo encasing her left breast started to rise, only to slap back down against her flesh and send an eye-opening jolt right now her spine. 

roxy, I can't get up. what should I do?

i think...

Roxy pursed her lips, slowly letting her hands relax. The kid was okay, everything was probably fine.

i think i just gave you some sort of a ghostgasm.

huh? you mean like a, you mean you just-

Roxy watched as the slime coating her body shifted to a slightly brighter shade of green.

i'm sorry. i didn't think that would happen, and i guess i got kinda carried away. are you mad at me?

The rug beneath them suddenly became very interesting, demanding Roxy stare directly at it.

well, I guess not?

The slime slowed in its flow. She figured he was starting to get his bearings back.

i mean, you didn't know, and geez it felt really good. also, I just realized I'm kinda touching you everywhere right now. i swear I'll get off you as soon as I can, though, I'm just, ah never mind.

The slime heaved upwards, struggling to reverse its flow. Roxy placed a hand against her chest.

this is probs, like, supes rude but, you could keep touching me if you like. it's only fair after, no, that's totally dishonest. this feels amazing. if you want to, i'd like you to.

John grew silent. She shivered, worried she'd offended him after all. She did just molest him, even inadvertently. Finally, he spoke.

you mean that?

yes, please.

i, alright.

His slime shifted, and seemed to undergo a single churn. A sort of ectoplasmic flex she thought, like stretching your leg that had gone to sleep to see if it wasn't so numb now. She wondered what he would go for first, expecting him to go for her boobs or maybe straight between her thighs, but to her surprise his slime began spreading over the distinct ridges of her ribs. 

you're really skinny, huh?

The pressure around her torso increased, squeezing her gently. Caught off guard, Roxy blushed.

sorry. i don't really get to eat much. someone with more meat would be nicer, huh?

oops, I probably shouldn't have said anything. i don't mind or nothing, I'm just saying whatever. if neither of us say anything it'd just feel too creepy.

yeah, i can understand that.

Roxy closed her eyes and tilted her head back on the rug, facing straight up, focusing solely on the feeling of being touched by something not trying to kill her. John left her sides and roamed further up, going under her arm pits and over her shoulders.

salty, this is sweat, right? it's in movies all the time but I could never remember what it's like.

dude, are you tasting me?!

She flinched with embarrassment.

well, yeah. my whole body is my whole body. wait, that makes no sense. everything does everything, i mean, see, hear, taste, smell. smell is pretty much the same thing as tasting, though, living people are just better at it with their noses rather than their mouths for some reason. it all goes to the throat anyway. that never really made sense to me. snakes smell with their mouths. that sounds much more sensible.

From her shoulders, John spread up her arms and around her neck. Roxy swallowed, a primal excitement not yet fight or flight rising from being so vulnerable. From how he squeezed her sides earlier, he could probably crush her neck if he tried, and no amount of cognizance could stop her survival instinct from flaring up.

oh wow, that rhythm, that bouncing pressure, that's your pulse, right? that's like your aliveness right there, and I can feel it. oh! it suddenly got even quicker.

i'm excited, you dork.

you living things are so weird. it all starts around the middle, right?

huh?

The main mass of his slime slid downwards and came to rest between her breasts, pooling around her modest mounds like a moat. 

there it is. so that's a heart? da-dum-da-dum-da-dum-da-dum. how do you ever get used to having a drum always going off inside you?

you get used to it.

He remained against her chest for a while. Curious, Roxy opened her eyes to see how it looked, then immediately shut them again to keep from laughing at thoughts of green eggs. She took a deep breath to calm herself down.

ooh! oh that felt nice. do that again.

what, breathe?

yeah. inflate your chest like that again. it lifts me right up.

With a mental shrug Roxy obliged, taking one deep breath after another. Despite the warmth of the fire she could feel goosebumps all over her body, and realized John could feel them too. She kept breathing, and every time she exhaled she felt John spread himself a little further around her. Some of him pooled at the undersides of her breasts and pushed, feeling their weight, tasting them too, she remembered. Some of him gathered around her raised nipples and clenched. John squeezed them from all different combinations of directions one after another. She gasped, her hips flinching upwards.

does that feel good?

totes, don't stop.

The attention to her buds didn't stop, but John continued to gradually encompass her. She sighed happily as he sent lines of pressure across her stomach, tracing the slight ridges of her abdominals.

your muscles are amazing.

ppft, need to be eating more meat to get any real muscle. that's like, the cheapest i can afford to keep me active on this thrifty protein budget.

but still, you have muscles, and can feel them. just wow. you have all these things strapped to your bones and you use them to move. that's so cool.

His slime circled around her back and met along her slime. She looked and felt for all the world like she was wearing a sheer green tube top. Her nipples stood clearly visible through the slime, still in a constant state of being teased and pinched. 

She held her breath as he spilled past the ridges of her pelvis, pouring down to her neglected pussy. Her tail-tip twitched impatiently, but she held back from demanding he hurry up. The anticipation alone was intoxicating. He finally breached her garden of blonde pubic hair, and when his slime first touched her aching clit her vision swam. A low, rumbling moan gathered from her throat and never seemed to run out. Despite his earlier protests, both John and Roxy said nothing, too lost in the act to care about silence.

His goo seemed to vibrate as it passed over her throbbing button, and Roxy couldn't tell if that was true or just her own hyper-stimulated shivering. 

Everywhere that John's slime touched her, it massaged her, leaving her writhing and contorting on the rug with curled toes and spasming tail.

When John at last flowed into her waiting hole Roxy let out such a cry of jubilance that her own ears rang from the noise of it. She came at once, a blinding white flash from the back of her brain that blinded the thoughts right from her head. All she could notice was John, John tugging and kneading her breasts, John digging into her stiff back muscles, John stroking her chest, John cupping her buttocks, John wrapped around her like a bathing suit, John sinking into every crevice and soft fold of her body. Enshrouding her, the slime boy enraptured her senses, and her orgasms dragged out for eternity.

 

Panting breathlessly and sweat dripping down her face, Roxy slumped back onto the rug.

someone let this ghost into heaven. he just earned it. hell, put the kid in charge.

you liked it?

John's head emerged from between her green coated breasts, smiling toothily.

yeah okay that's a sight i might never get used to. come here you big squishy.

She closed her eyes and pulled his head in for a kiss. His lips tasted like rich gummi candy. When she broke away the boy glowed an almost neon green.

so yeah, that was pretty fun. er,

He glanced around looking for something to draw attention to. Roxy just put her hands behind her head and basked in the afterglow.

ah! I think your foods done.

feed me.

She opened her mouth wide and pointed down her throat.

seriously?

if i move i might wake up, and i'll still be out there in the rain.

Thunder punctuated her mumbled protest. If the rug was sticky with slime, she couldn't feel it through John wrapped tightly around her.

geez you're weird. eh, whatever.

Unperturbed by the flames, John reached into the fireplace and removed the boiling hot cans. For a while the only sound was the crackling of the fire and the groaning of the can opener.

your clothes aren't dry yet.

John glanced at the damp objects draped over the chair, and scooped out some sardines from their can. He held them out, and Roxy happily slurped them up from his fingers. The slight film of his slime on the hot fish left her taste buds confused, but not in a disagreeable way.

you make a real nice blanket?

heh, yeah alright, we can stay like this a while longer.


End file.
